


open up one eager eye

by Lizzen



Category: Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 15:03:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11716827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzen/pseuds/Lizzen
Summary: Trini lifts her chin and raises her fists; next time, she won't be the weak one.





	open up one eager eye

**Author's Note:**

> love to th_esaurus!!!
> 
> I watched the movie at last!!! Late to the game, and with a ship no one asked for! Finger guns!!!!!1

Afterwards, she trains harder than the rest of them. Closes her eyes and lets the suit overwhelm her, overtake her skin. Cover her up in its protective embrace. It’s a comfort, having a shell between her and the world. She remembers--

 _No_ , she thinks. And raises her fists.

The training program can be turned up several levels, and she’s not yet ready for the highest setting, but she’s working towards it, one thousand putties at a time.

Alpha 5 makes worried sounds over her every time she shows up and starts to warm up. “It’s impressive, really, but you don’t have to--”

“She came for _me_ ,” Trini shoots back. “Next time, I’m not going to be the weak one.”

 

*  
There’s an open invitation at everyone’s house and, often, she crashes with Kimberly.

There’s no hair braiding or rom com movies or chocolate fondue, regardless of what Trini’s mom thinks. There’s sparring in the backyard; they make it look like a beautiful dance despite the growing bruises and healing ribs. There’s lying side by side and talking about it, what it’s like to be invincible, what it’s like to have almost burned alive and instead come out something, _something_ else.

There’s falling asleep next to the most beautiful girl you’ve ever met, and the heat of her makes you feel soft in all your darkest corners.

 _She_ , on the other hand, was so cold, so very cold.

 

*  
The nightmare is an old friend now. Feather light touches of fingers against skin, the gentle suck of a mouth against her neck, the gaze of a lover’s eye. A familiar face, dark hair, strong hands, and a wet chin. Trini feels sharp nails gripping her thighs and a merciless tongue against her--

And she feels so young; she feels small and weak. There’s no suit, no crystal growth along her skin to protect her. The only thing between them is their mingled sweat and centuries of hate.

She’s not one to put the name to the face yet; there’s madness there that she doesn’t want.

 

*  
“You okay?” Jason asks her at detention. “Worried about you.”

Trini doesn’t treat him like she treats her mother, so there’s no smile on her lips, no evenness in her gaze. She looks at him and says: “I’m working on it.” The truth doesn’t stick in her mouth when she talks to him; there’s a trust that builds after water and fire.

He touches her shoulder, a hard sort of grip, before nodding. “Whatever you need, you let me know.”

She tilts her head. “Thanks, boss,” and they share a chuckle.

 

*  
Trini remembers:

She looked so small in her green and gold, approaching them with an unstoppable menace.

She looked so small as she said: _what you have, it can’t last_

She looked so small as Trini obeyed orders and slammed iron and steel against flesh and bone, hurling their enemy helplessly into space.

 

*  
An alien invader comes six months later, looking for the zeo crystal and an ancient enemy. Zordon walks them through it, and Jason shouts out orders, and within 48 hours, they’ve made short work of him and Angel Grove.

Trini wonders how much quicker it would have been if they started with the Megazord instead of working up to it, but she’s not the leader. She’s the Yellow Ranger, the right arm, and she makes sure that every blow counts.

 

*  
“Trini,” she hears on the way to the training room, and she stops in her tracks. Raises her chin, and enters the mainframe room. The morphing matrix dances in her eyes, and Zordon moves from the center to the far left, closer to her.

“The one before you, she was braver than any of us,” he says quietly, answering a question she’s been too afraid to ask. “She’d be proud of you.”

She lifts her chin, puts her hands behind her back. “I’m glad.”

“You should also know,” and he hesitates, “that Rita was her lover. Before we she lost her way. I hope that--”

Trini raises her hand. “That’s more than I needed to know,” she says, but something inside of her twists, dark and raw.

 

*  
In the quiet of her room, Trini stares at the ceiling as she gets her hands between her legs, touches what is already very wet. Thinks of words said to her between these walls and it’s far too easy to come sharp and yielding.

There was something crushing about being powerless against _her_ ; her experience, her power, her suit. A rage inside her heart grew at that moment, blossoming into something brighter than sunlight. Trini holds fast to it, the anger and all the heat that comes with it.

The trouble with memory is this: the more you ruminate, the muddier it all becomes. And the whisper of “I killed the Yellow Ranger before” shifts to “I fucked the Yellow Ranger before,” and Trini sees only white, her fingers moving so fast and hard against flesh.

Truly, she’s unsure of what really happened; all she knows is that there was a hand against her neck, and a hand against her thigh.

With a voice lush and sweet in her ear, the whisper is now: _delightful._

 

*  
Kimberly knocks her on her ass, falls gracelessly on top of her. It’s the first time in a long time to have a woman between her legs and Trini blushes crimson. “Can you _not_?” Trini breathes out, wishing desperately for her mask.

“You let me do that,” Kimberly says, leaning in too close. “You’re letting me do this,” and lips push against her nose before Trini’s arms grip Kimberly’s shoulders, pushing her away for a moment and a hard fist slams against flesh.

Trini hears Kimberly laugh as she sails through the air away from Trini’s shivering body.

Trini hears: _We could be having a very different conversation right now_ and isn’t sure if the words were actually spoken out loud. If it was her, if it was Kimberly, if it was--

 

*  
Alone, she hikes to the mine and up to the highest elevation; she tries to do it honestly, without any aid of her powers. Like old times, like the girl she was before.

There’s water and jerky in her bag, and her music wails loudly in her ears. The twilight sun hits her face, and she settles in for the night, soft grass against her back and her pack for a pillow. Silence permeates her mind, and she stares up at the darkening skies. Stares up at the stars and then the moon.

And she wonders if anyone is staring down at her.

 

*  
When she takes Kimberly to bed, nothing’s gentle or sweet and she notes Kimberly’s eyes going wide with shock but they meet each other against the sheets as equally as they do in training.

When she takes Kimberly to bed, she eats her out like Rita did to her, like she thinks Rita did, and it’s all nails and force and an indefatigable will to leave her in ruins.

When she takes Kimberly to bed, it’s like sailing through the sky on a journey without end. Close your eyes, and let it happen, let the feelings flow through you because there’s nothing you can do to stop the momentum.

 

*  
After, Kimberly combs fingers through Trini’s hair and gives her a dreamy half smile. “You learned that,” and she makes a vague gesture towards her hips, “from a master. I’m-- damn.” There’s a shrug that Trini forces out and in her mind’s eye, she hears: _I see myself in you_. Without much effort, she’s got Kimberly on her back again.

“I’m self taught,” she says with an almost haughty veneer before making Kimberly gasp into the night air.

 

*  
It’s in the middle of so much destruction that they meet again.

“Hello, lover,” Rita says, gripping her golden staff and looking like a gaunt shadow of herself. The moon has not been kind.

“Miss me?” Trini replies and raises her fists.

#


End file.
